FIC: Dark Shadows: Greed of the Accursed [Barnabas/Willie; R]
Title: Greed of the Accursed
Author:
ldybastet
Fandom/Pairing: Dark Shadows - Barnabas Collins/Willie Loomis
Summary: When Willie went to the Collins' mausoleum, he'd expected to find treasures, not that he would lose himself.
Rating: R/Adult/Hot
Content: Non-con bloodplay.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Dark Shadows or Dan Curtis Productions. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people and events is purely coincidental. No disrespect is intended and I earn no money from this.
Notes: ~1050 words. Written for the bloodplay square on my
seasonofkink card. Many thanks to misumaru for a speedy birthday beta. :D
Greed of the Accursed
When Willie went to the Collins' mausoleum, he'd expected to find treasures hidden in the coffins - shiny, precious jewels, set in gold and silver. Broaches, rings, and necklaces. As many jewels as a vain woman could possibly take with her to her grave. She didn't need them now anyway. No one would miss them. They were practically waiting for someone to come along and take them. And that someone was, of course, Willie Loomis.
But then he'd accidentally opened the secret panel in the wall, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. If there was a secret door, then there had to be something worth hiding in there, right? There was another coffin in the hidden room and it had chains wrapped around it, making it even more obvious that there was something valuable inside.
What he hadn't counted on when he went out that night, was that he would lose himself. Forever.
The chains were rusty, and it was clear that no one had opened the coffin since the day it had been sealed. With whatever treasures were inside. Willie imagined golden chains set with sapphires and diamonds, rings with emeralds and garnets... He would be a rich man, not having to work another day in his life.
When he opened the coffin, a hand shot out and closed around his throat, squeezing tightly.
Willie wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted to run away, but all he could manage was a little squeak and a feeble clawing at the hand that held him tightly. He was starting to see dark spots, his vision getting narrow, and his pulse was pounding in his ears. But he could still see the horror that held him, that rose from the coffin.
The figure pushed him back and he almost tripped over his tools. Then Willie was slammed against the wall, feet barely touching the ground. The cold fingers that dug painfully into his neck and throat tightened even more, and Willie realised he was going to die.
"Who are you?" the dark figure asked, and his voice was deep and hoarse, as if it hadn't been used for many years. "What are you doing here?"
Willie opened his mouth but no sound came out. The dark spots in his vision got larger, and he was so dizzy...
Suddenly, the grip on his throat was gone, and Willie almost crumpled to a heap. He didn't dare look up, instinctively feeling that whoever, whatever, it was in front of him was much higher up in the food chain than he was. This was something completely different from anything he'd ever encountered before.
"Look at me," the figure demanded, and for some reason, Willie couldn't refuse. Against his will, he raised his head and screamed when the moonlight that filtered in through the open panel hit the ghastly visage of the figure. Eyes burning like fire, set in a face so gaunt and dry that it looked like it belonged to a mummy, and the mouth opening impossibly wide to reveal razor sharp fangs as the monster leaned closer.
The last thing Willie felt was the pain when those fangs sank deep into his neck, and then he blacked out.
When he came to, Willie felt weak and dizzy. His neck was hurting terribly, a burning pain that put every nerve in his body on edge, making his body tingle in the strangest way. He opened his eyes, and before him was still that menacing shape, but now it really was a man rather than a monster.
Somehow, the skin of the creature had softened and filled out, but it only made the eyes more terrifying, as they were now set in a face of classical, sharp features. The contrast between the human and the inhuman made Willie tremble in fear, and the curl of the man's upper lip made him think of a menacing animal, about to attack and rip him to shreds.
"So," the man said. "You're awake again... Did I frighten you?"
"Please let me go," Willie begged, and his voice was quivering.
"Oh? Why would I do that?" The man closed his hand around Willie's throat.
"You don't want to kill me!"
"But I do." The grip got tighter. "I need to kill you... So I can live!"
There was nothing Willie could do when the man's gaze held him. His entire vision seemed to be taken up by the burning eyes, and his limbs wouldn't obey him, wouldn't move to stop the man from leaning in to sink his fangs once more into Willie's neck.
The pain wasn't as bad this time, and Willie didn't pass out, even though he soon wished that he had. That way he wouldn't have to feel the way his body reacted to the wicked carnality of the act. Willie wasn't a religious man, but this was a violation of everything he'd believed in, and most of all, his conviction that he was controlling his life and his body.
He was hard, harder than he could remember ever have been before. It was as if the blood that this monster sucked out of him in rhythmic surges somehow gave a depraved echo in his groin, making his cock twitch and grow.
Willie felt weak and dizzy, and strangely disconnected from himself and his body, and he feared that this was the end. But then the man disengaged, perhaps sated in his bloodlust, and it was a strange sensation when the fangs slid out of his flesh, almost like a loss. But he was alive!
"Please! I'll do anything!" Willie croaked, and pressed his fingers to the wounds in his throat when the man loosened his grip on him. But the slight relief he'd felt that the ordeal was over turned to horror again when the man threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the crypt.
"Oh, you will do anything, I promise you that! Because now you're mine! And I shall use you as I see fit. My servant... for as long as I let you live."
Willie trembled, and for a short, shameful moment, he wasn't sure if it was from horror or arousal.
This entry was originally posted at http://ldybastet.dreamwidth.org/634369.html.
comments there. You can comment on either site.
Author:
ldybastet
Fandom/Pairing: Dark Shadows - Barnabas Collins/Willie Loomis
Summary: When Willie went to the Collins' mausoleum, he'd expected to find treasures, not that he would lose himself.
Rating: R/Adult/Hot
Content: Non-con bloodplay.
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Dark Shadows or Dan Curtis Productions. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people and events is purely coincidental. No disrespect is intended and I earn no money from this.
Notes: ~1050 words. Written for the bloodplay square on my
seasonofkink card. Many thanks to misumaru for a speedy birthday beta. :D
Greed of the Accursed
When Willie went to the Collins' mausoleum, he'd expected to find treasures hidden in the coffins - shiny, precious jewels, set in gold and silver. Broaches, rings, and necklaces. As many jewels as a vain woman could possibly take with her to her grave. She didn't need them now anyway. No one would miss them. They were practically waiting for someone to come along and take them. And that someone was, of course, Willie Loomis.
But then he'd accidentally opened the secret panel in the wall, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. If there was a secret door, then there had to be something worth hiding in there, right? There was another coffin in the hidden room and it had chains wrapped around it, making it even more obvious that there was something valuable inside.
What he hadn't counted on when he went out that night, was that he would lose himself. Forever.
The chains were rusty, and it was clear that no one had opened the coffin since the day it had been sealed. With whatever treasures were inside. Willie imagined golden chains set with sapphires and diamonds, rings with emeralds and garnets... He would be a rich man, not having to work another day in his life.
When he opened the coffin, a hand shot out and closed around his throat, squeezing tightly.
Willie wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted to run away, but all he could manage was a little squeak and a feeble clawing at the hand that held him tightly. He was starting to see dark spots, his vision getting narrow, and his pulse was pounding in his ears. But he could still see the horror that held him, that rose from the coffin.
The figure pushed him back and he almost tripped over his tools. Then Willie was slammed against the wall, feet barely touching the ground. The cold fingers that dug painfully into his neck and throat tightened even more, and Willie realised he was going to die.
"Who are you?" the dark figure asked, and his voice was deep and hoarse, as if it hadn't been used for many years. "What are you doing here?"
Willie opened his mouth but no sound came out. The dark spots in his vision got larger, and he was so dizzy...
Suddenly, the grip on his throat was gone, and Willie almost crumpled to a heap. He didn't dare look up, instinctively feeling that whoever, whatever, it was in front of him was much higher up in the food chain than he was. This was something completely different from anything he'd ever encountered before.
"Look at me," the figure demanded, and for some reason, Willie couldn't refuse. Against his will, he raised his head and screamed when the moonlight that filtered in through the open panel hit the ghastly visage of the figure. Eyes burning like fire, set in a face so gaunt and dry that it looked like it belonged to a mummy, and the mouth opening impossibly wide to reveal razor sharp fangs as the monster leaned closer.
The last thing Willie felt was the pain when those fangs sank deep into his neck, and then he blacked out.
When he came to, Willie felt weak and dizzy. His neck was hurting terribly, a burning pain that put every nerve in his body on edge, making his body tingle in the strangest way. He opened his eyes, and before him was still that menacing shape, but now it really was a man rather than a monster.
Somehow, the skin of the creature had softened and filled out, but it only made the eyes more terrifying, as they were now set in a face of classical, sharp features. The contrast between the human and the inhuman made Willie tremble in fear, and the curl of the man's upper lip made him think of a menacing animal, about to attack and rip him to shreds.
"So," the man said. "You're awake again... Did I frighten you?"
"Please let me go," Willie begged, and his voice was quivering.
"Oh? Why would I do that?" The man closed his hand around Willie's throat.
"You don't want to kill me!"
"But I do." The grip got tighter. "I need to kill you... So I can live!"
There was nothing Willie could do when the man's gaze held him. His entire vision seemed to be taken up by the burning eyes, and his limbs wouldn't obey him, wouldn't move to stop the man from leaning in to sink his fangs once more into Willie's neck.
The pain wasn't as bad this time, and Willie didn't pass out, even though he soon wished that he had. That way he wouldn't have to feel the way his body reacted to the wicked carnality of the act. Willie wasn't a religious man, but this was a violation of everything he'd believed in, and most of all, his conviction that he was controlling his life and his body.
He was hard, harder than he could remember ever have been before. It was as if the blood that this monster sucked out of him in rhythmic surges somehow gave a depraved echo in his groin, making his cock twitch and grow.
Willie felt weak and dizzy, and strangely disconnected from himself and his body, and he feared that this was the end. But then the man disengaged, perhaps sated in his bloodlust, and it was a strange sensation when the fangs slid out of his flesh, almost like a loss. But he was alive!
"Please! I'll do anything!" Willie croaked, and pressed his fingers to the wounds in his throat when the man loosened his grip on him. But the slight relief he'd felt that the ordeal was over turned to horror again when the man threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the crypt.
"Oh, you will do anything, I promise you that! Because now you're mine! And I shall use you as I see fit. My servant... for as long as I let you live."
Willie trembled, and for a short, shameful moment, he wasn't sure if it was from horror or arousal.
This entry was originally posted at http://ldybastet.dreamwidth.org/634369.html.
comments there. You can comment on either site.